


DL Shorts: Part 2

by InvertedPhantasmagoria



Category: Diabolik Lovers
Genre: Abandonment, Abuse, Alternate Universe, Attempted Murder, Betrayal, Blood Drinking, Blood Loss, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Broken Bones, Canon-Typical Violence, Caretaking, Control Issues, Corporal Punishment, Crying, Dom/sub, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotionally Repressed, F/M, Fear Play, Fever, First Time Blow Jobs, Gen, Humiliation, Hypothermia, Isolation, Kidnapping, Love Confessions, No Lube, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Protectiveness, Psychological Torture, Rape, Reader-Insert, Self-Sacrifice, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Stabbing, Terminal Illnesses, Threats of Violence, Torture, Trauma, Vampires, Whipping, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 05:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21010142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvertedPhantasmagoria/pseuds/InvertedPhantasmagoria
Summary: Part two of short fics from my tumblr! :D Just a compilation of stuff I've written. Most of it is sort of old, but these do take me a while to get through... There's fluff, smut, angst, and pretty much everything inside~





	DL Shorts: Part 2

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Once again I'm not going to bother to list all of the warnings for these, so please check the tags! As usual, there's a lot of disturbing material, so please read carefully o3o These are all requests from my tumblr, so for more info on Aus and other such information, please refer to the link below~ Also, please comment if you can~!
> 
> dixbolik-lovers.tumblr.com

**1\. Sakamaki Subaru**

There’s a knife slipped under Subaru’s mattress and the weight of earning his freedom hanging like lead on his shoulders. 

Two days ago, he found the knife– beautiful, polished silver, all ornate swirls and a razor-edge blade– in one of the many unused rooms in the mansion. Silver could kill a vampire, he remembered, and smuggled the knife back to his room before he could think twice. 

And now, the dilemma. He could kill you. He could at least  _ try.  _ Subaru could jam the knife into your back when you go to bite him, and even if he fails, you’d likely put him out of his misery for trying. He could have the chance to be free again, all of his brothers too. He could be the one to save all of them before you really do hurt someone. 

But that’s if he can do it. 

For all Subaru likes to think of himself as strong, killing someone with his own hands is a level of violence that he’s not sure he could be capable of. Even though you’re a monster, even though you’re his captor, could he  _ really  _ be the one to kill for his freedom?

A part of him wants to hand the knife over to his brothers, to let someone else do the deed, but…

It’s not fair. He took the knife. If anyone is going to dirty their hands and kill to save them all, it might as well be the one who’s already a monster. He’s the strong one. It makes sense that the job should fall to him.

Subaru picks up the little blade and slides it up the sleeve of his shirt, holding it close to his wrist. He can pull it out in a second, if you don’t notice. Even if you do, you might believe that he intended to kill himself instead of you. Feeling shaky-sick, he steps out into the hall, walking on unsteady legs towards your room. 

He’ll offer himself up, and then, when you bite him, he’ll put an end to all of this. He’ll save himself, no matter what he has to do. 

Pausing outside your door, Subaru tries to breathe. If he steps inside, there will be no going back. Once he’s close to you, his only choices will be to kill you or let himself be found out. If he misses this chance, there won’t be a second try. He’ll never have an opportunity like this again. 

Feeling close to breaking, Subaru pushes open your door. He slips inside, finding you at your desk, leaning over a book with an expression so, so dangerously close to soft. Subaru’s stomach lurches. The knife is cold against his skin. You look up, eyes fixing right onto him. Subaru can feel himself shaking. He thinks he might be about to throw up. 

“Yes? Is there any reason why my prey is coming to me tonight?” You stand up, step towards him, and Subaru prepares to do what he must. 

You’re in his space. Your hand goes under his chin. Subaru’s heart is pounding so hard he can feel it in his throat. He has to do it. He  _ has  _ to do it. This is the only way that they’ll all be free. 

Subaru’s hand slips, and the knife clatters to the floor. 

**2\. Tsukinami Shin**

Shin is outside your mansion for the first time in weeks. He’s running, tearing through the forest surrounding your home with as much haste as he can muster. Brush tears at his clothes, scraping over his legs, but the pain barely registers past the pounding in his head. 

He’s  _ close.  _ He can see the road that brought him here in the first place, streetlights shining like halos in the distance. 

He’ll make it. He has to. This is one chance to get away, after slipping away while you were busy with his brother. He’ll make it to the road, where a car  _ has  _ to see him. Someone will save him, and then all he has to do is bring back enough people to kill you for good. He’ll save his brother, and put you down like the fucking monster you are.

The road is maybe fifty feet away, and a hand closes on his collar. 

You yank him back with enough force to choke, shirt collar tightening around his neck like a leash. Shin falls on his ass, your hand still firmly holding onto the back of his shirt. 

“I look away for five minutes, and you do this?” You sigh. “I don’t know what I should have expected. You always have been the difficult one.”

You grab Shin by his arm, grip bruisingly tight. Dragging him with you like he’s nothing more than a disobedient animal, you set off back towards the mansion without so much as giving him a chance to defend himself. Shin swears and shouts, screaming back at the road in the hopes that someone will hear, writhing in your grasp, praying that he can break free. 

Forcing him to walk the whole way back, you lead Shin to a room that he knows all too well. With every step, panic rises in his gut like things with legs, clawing at his insides. 

“Let go of me!” he howls. “Fucking let go! You damn monster! I’ll get away, you can’t keep me here!” 

You haul Shin into your torture room like his protests mean nothing. 

A second later, there’s a blade through the meat of his shoulder, pinning him to the wall. Shin  _ screeches,  _ twisting uselessly as he screams. Your hand goes to his throat, pushing him back against the wall with enough force to choke. 

“See, this is why you shouldn’t try to leave me. I don’t  _ like  _ doing these things to you, you know? If you’d just be obedient like your brother, we wouldn’t have these problems. But now, because you have to be difficult, I have to punish you.” Your tone is bored, longsuffering, like punishing him is nothing more than a chore for you. 

Shin doesn’t know if the pain or the humiliation is worse.

You kneel down, grabbing his lower leg in one strong hand. You squeeze, and Shin screams at the sick  _ snap,  _ agony lancing up his spine. 

“You won’t run away again, don’t worry. I’ll make sure of that.” You smile, reaching for his other leg. Shin tries to pretend like the pain is the only reason that he’s crying. 

**3\. Mukami Kou**

Your fangs slide out of Kou’s neck, scraping roughly at his skin. He whimpers, low and sweet, and the blood on your teeth is the sweetest thing in the world. 

With a step back, Kou falls. His knees give out, leaving him slumping down against the wall. His pretty blue eyes are glassy and unfocused, staring a point somewhere a few feet to your left, face flushed a delicious shade of red. He’s shaking, you can see it. 

“Come on, don’t you have a class to get to?” you laugh, poking his ankle lightly with your shoe. The only response you get is an unsteady sigh.

Kou blinks slowly. He shakes his head, as if trying to shake the fog out of his thoughts with force alone. Pale throat bobbing, he gets his hands out to the side, shifting his weight and trying to stand up. He has class in about five minutes, and while it  _ was _ a little cruel to drain him right before he has to be in the public eye, Kou’s cute little cries are just too precious to resist. He’ll be fine, you think. You’ve done worse. 

But instead of getting up, Kou’s arms give out. He tips to the side, collapsing back onto the floor in an undignified sprawl. With a whine, he looks up at you, red face set in an expression of pure anxiety. 

“I–I, I can’t g-get up.” Kou’s voice is shaking terribly, coming out soft and unsteady. “I’m ser-serious! I don’t th-think I’m going to be–be able to walk.” As if to prove his point, he squirms again, trying to haul himself up. Once again, he winds up collapsed on the floor, trembling. 

That’s… unusual. Kou usually tries to look good in front of you, so this probably isn’t faked. Maybe you  _ did  _ take a little too much blood. 

“Really? Can’t move at all?” You crouch down next to him, eyeing him with a glare that you hope will get any lies right out of him. Poor thing does look all pale and weak, though. Blood loss it is. 

“No!” Kou squeaks. “Why d-did you do this to me…?” He’s all but whining, eyes going wet. It must feel miserable to be so helpless in front of someone like you. You can’t imagine he’s enjoying the vulnerability. If anyone found you, it would make for a bad scene indeed. 

“Okay, okay. Here; I’ll fix it.”

Easily, you scoop Kou up into your arms. His skinny body fits against your chest perfectly, human warmth seeping into your skin. Kou whimpers, kicking a bit, but goes still just as quickly. Flushing, he buries his face against your shoulder, probably embarrassed to be held. You smile. You can smell his strawberry shampoo from here, every bit as sweet as he is. 

“Don’t worry about class. We’re going home for now. I’ll make a note later to get you out of it.” It can’t hurt to be nice this time. If anything, the kindness will endear you to him all the more. 

Kou sighs, low and soft, and goes half limp in your arms. How cute. You might just have to get him all vulnerable more often. 

**4\. Mukami Ruki**

Ruki is facing a wall, outstretched arms the only thing holding him up. He’s shirtless, exposing the red, raw scars on his back, and his head is bowed in perfect submission. He’s flushed down to his neck. 

Corporal punishment works well with him, as you know. Strict guidelines and a strong hand are best for making him feel  _ owned.  _

Thus, when his ego had made a reappearance, when he’d snapped at you for the first time in a good couple weeks, he’d all but volunteered to take the punishment for stepping out of line. At this point, you think, his ego itself might be wrapped up in obeying you, in becoming the perfect property of the person he’s convinced owns him entirely. 

“Breathe,” you instruct, running a gentle hand over his shoulder. “You want this, right? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

“I acted out, and I can take the consequences. Don’t hold back for fear of  _ breaking  _ me. I… I was the one who asked for this.” Ruki glances at you for all of a second before dropping his head again, going increasingly red. You can’t imagine it’s easy for him to admit to this kind of thing. 

Nodding, you step back. The first strike of the flogger hits his lower back, a good ways below the scars on his shoulderblades. Ruki flinches, tensing, but shows no other reaction. 

Okay, he can handle half-strength. 

With the next few strikes, you slowly increase the force, striping his back with lines of red. Ruki breathes heavily, shoulders shaking, but doesn’t ask you to stop. Each  _ snap  _ against his skin draws out a little jerk, a small flinch, but he doesn’t so much as try to squirm away. 

The parts of his scars that you’ve hit are growing red and swollen, standing out angry against his pale skin and old, mangled flesh. It  _ looks  _ like it hurts, but you suppose that vampire healing might change things. 

But, with a particularly solid strike that lands dead center on his scars, that composure changes. 

Suddenly, Ruki gasps. His shoulders are shaking, breath coming quickly, and when you step around to his side to see how he’s doing, there are tears streaking his face, dripping down his chin. 

“It’s  _ fine _ ,” Ruki hisses when you ask, hand twitching like he wants to shove you away. “I’m fine. Keep going. It won’t be more than I can take.”

Frowning, you reach around and press your hand against the smaller of his scars. Instantly, Ruki yelps, jerking away and gritting his teeth. Yep. You were right. Those things are a lot more sensitive than the pillar of dignity wants to admit to. It’s difficult not to sigh. 

“Nope, we’re stopping. You’re in pain, and not the good kind. Come on, we’re going to lay down and talk about this.” This, like many times, is where the true control comes in. Ruki could take the punishment from anyone, but being dragged into discussing the emotional vulnerability is a whole other matter. 

**5\. Sakamaki Reiji**

Reiji wakes up with a fever, and things go downhill from there. 

As usual, he’s up mere minutes after you, dressed, hair brushed, and emerging from his bedroom with an intimidatingly thick book in hand. Unlike usual, his face is flushed a noticeable shade of pink, his shirt is buttoned wrong, and he stumbles a bit as he enters the room. 

“You okay, hon?” you ask, sliding up out of your seat and over to press a hand against his typically-cool forehead. 

...which is now warm enough to match your skin. Shit. 

“I’m… I’m fine, mother,” Reiji mumbles, blinking glassy eyes. As fine as anyone can be with that much of a fever, you suppose. “I do feel a little, um, unwell, but I’ll be fine as I wake up, I assure you. I’ll get my reading d-done and head to school as usual. There’s no need to trouble… trouble yourself over a minor cold.”

“Nope, not a cold. You’re burning up, kid.” Reiji pouts, flushed little cheeks scrunching up unhappily. You scoop him up before he can complain, noting the way that he instinctively tucks his face against your shoulder. It’s just like Reiji to think that he can make it to school even when he’s obviously feeling awful. He’s an overachiever, always trying much too hard to live up to the invisible expectations pressing down on him. 

You plop Reiji back into his bed like it’s nothing, kissing his head to distract him long enough to slip the book out of his arms. Sleep is a good idea. Sleep, soup, and probably cuddles. You know yourself that it’s much nicer to be sick when there’s someone there to rub your back. 

Reiji squeaks out a little protest, quickly figuring out the situation. A second later, he devolves into a fit of coughing.  _ Ouch.  _

“You’re not going to school today, okay? Feeling better comes first. If we’re lucky, this’ll be a one-day thing… so don’t make things worse, please. You’ll be back to class quicker if you let yourself rest.” 

“But–,” Reiji’s mouth snaps shut on his own objection as quickly as it forms. He’s smart enough to see the logic here, and you both know it. “...Alright. I’ll rest for today. I-I’m… I’m sorry for troubling you.” Tugging the blanket up to his chin, Reiji’s eyes take on a nervous look that you don’t like. That’s the face he makes when he thinks he’s doing something wrong.

You sit down on the bed beside him, brushing your hand through soft hair. Reiji shivers a bit, closing his eyes under the affection. You switch to rubbing his back a second later, and the sigh that leaves him is utter relief. 

“No worries. You’re alright. I’ll make some chicken soup later, ‘kay? That’s good for sick kids. And I’ll read to you when you wake up too. Whatever textbook you want. I’m not gonna be mad because you need a rest today. You’re a good kid, Reiji. I’m proud of you.” You smile, smoothing a hand between Reiji’s narrow shoulderblades. 

**6\. Sakamaki Ayato**

Ayato stays under the park bench until morning. By the time there’s dew on the ground, he’s chilled down to the bone, shaking so hard he can feel it clattering his fangs.

He wakes up all alone, misty sky blurring the world grey. For a second, he’s painfully confused, eyes darting around, frantically wondering why he’s outside instead of curled up on the floor of his owner’s house, collared like he belongs. The memories come crashing down a second later, and Ayato is sick for a whole new reason. He’s still  _ alone.  _

He lays there shaking for a while longer, trying to figure out what he’s supposed to do now. He can just lay there and keep waiting… right? Maybe she’ll still come back. Maybe it’s not over yet. If he does have to move eventually… Ayato doesn’t have the faintest idea what he’d do. He’s never been on his own before. Never been outside by himself. All he’s heard are horror stories about what happens to the vampires left on the streets. 

Maybe he’ll wind up in a shelter. That might not be so bad. He could go crawling up to a human and ask nicely, even. 

But a few minutes later, there are footsteps. Ayato looks up, and it’s her, his owner, striding back towards him with his leash in hand. His stomach lurches so hard with joy that it almost chokes him. 

Ayato scrambles to his knees, fingers dragging in the dirt. She came back! She came back for him! She’s going to take him back and he’s never, never ever going to do anything bad again. He’ll be so good that she’ll never even think of getting rid of him. Eyes wide, Ayato looks up at her, painfully aware of how his skinny shoulders tremble in the morning chill. 

“Next time, you’ll take me seriously, won’t you?” is all she says, leaning down to hook the collar back around his neck. It’s a few loops too tight, digging at his skin, and Ayato leans into the pain happily. 

His owner doesn’t say anything else, just starts walking, letting Ayato scurry after her without so much as another glance his way. He’s going to be taken home now, maybe put back in his cage for a while just to make sure he learned his lesson. For sure, Ayato thinks, he won’t be so needy or noisy or clumsy anymore. If the problem was that he took up so much space, he’ll be so quiet and good she’ll never notice him again!

Just looking up at his owner, Ayato’s chest feels warm and tight. This is how things are supposed to be. He’s learned his lesson, and things will be better now. How kind she was, to take him back. The walk home is filled with gratefulness, welling up his chest like water, like blood. 

At home, his owner lets him off his leash, telling him to stay out of the way until she’s ready to deal with him again– and of course, to not get her floor dirty! 

Ayato obediently slides himself into a far corner, trying not to think of the anxiety still prickling under his skin. It’ll be okay now, for sure. 

**7\. Mukami Kou**

Kou wakes up so cold he feels  _ dead,  _ frozen down to his blood. His eyes flutter open, panicked. The last thing he can remember is the snowstorm setting in while he was outside the mansion, while he finally thought he’d had a chance to get away from this awful place for good. 

But no, he’s back in his room, bundled up in enough blankets that he appears to be nothing more than a lump under them all. He’s shuddering painfully, teeth clattering, and for a second, wants nothing more than to bury himself under those blankets and never come out and face the world ever again. He’s freezing. All these blankets, and he’s  _ freezing. _

And then his eyes flicker over to you, sitting next to the bed on a dragged-in chair, expression set in something like annoyance. Kou’s heartbeat surges in his chest fast and hard, panicked. 

“So you finally wake up. And here I thought you’d actually managed to get away from me.” You tilt your head, looking at him with slit-pupil eyes. 

Kou shivers harder. Whatever you could do now… you caught him… punishment is sure to be coming. You could drag him out of bed, shove him back outside, force him into a freezing shower and make him stay there until he cries, strip him down and leave him to shiver in a corner until he begs for your forgiveness. The terrifying possibilities are endless, and the tremors that hit Kou’s shoulders next are more from fear than chill. 

“Oh, quit looking at me like that. I’m not going to do anything to fuck you up any worse than what you already did to yourself. You’re already half dead; I don’t need to help.” Your voice is sharp, and Kou flinches. 

“S-Sorry…” 

He’s so cold. A sick part of him wishes that you were warm enough to crawl into the bed with him and lay beside him until he could breathe again. Even if you bit him, it would feel so nice to be next to someone warm…

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it, kitten. When you’re feeling better, we’ll have a little lesson.”

Again, Kou flinches, a whimper falling from his lips. 

“But that’s later. For now, you’re going to get warm again. I don’t want my prey dying on its own, you hear?” You stand up, sliding over to the bed beside him. Your hand– slowly enough that Kou doesn’t jerk away– falls to his forehead, brushing back his bangs. 

Warmth spreads down through him, too sudden and bright to be natural. You laugh, murmuring something about magic and temporary measures, but Kou barely hears it. He’s leaning into your hand before he can stop himself. He’s melting into the blankets, finally starting to relax. Your thumb rubs a slow back and forth against Kou’s skin, and with the tension draining out, Kou is suddenly aware of just how tired he is. 

As he slips out of awareness again, his last thought is that maybe it wasn’t such a stupid thought to want you closer to him. 

**8\. Mukami Yuuma **

“I love you,” Yuuma says, after a minute of rambling that took far too long to spit out. He already feels awkward and foolish, spilling his feelings in a way that’s  _ nothing  _ like the way it was supposed to be. 

But it’s alright, he thinks. He said it. It took forever, weeks of pent up feelings and stupid days wishing he could just tell you how important you’d become, weeks of leaning into bites a little more than could be passed off as normal. You had to have noticed by now. Fuck, you’d probably guessed ages ago. You’d probably make fun of him for taking so long.

Instead of a smile, though, instead of crinkled eyes and a grin that shows every fang, your face drops, eyes going cold. There’s something like shock that crosses your face, a cold sort of surprise that’s laced with dark mistrust, posture shifting to something almost defensive. 

“Come on, pig, that’s not funny. Talk about a bad joke. What are you trying to do, get me to soften up on you?” You laugh, bitterly, and Yuuma’s heart sinks. 

“I ain’t joking!” he shouts before he can think that maybe raising his voice isn’t the best idea. Then, quieter, “I mean it, okay? I’m not messing with you…” Fuck, this is embarrassing. Admitting his feelings the first time was bad enough, but this… at least he’s getting the point across.

But then, you step forward, pinning Yuuma back against the wall behind him. You’re scowling, still not pleased, still not even laughing at how he’s making a fool out of himself in front of you. Your hand goes to his shoulder, his neck, tipping his head back and baring the length of his neck. The height difference doesn’t matter a bit; Yuuma’s heart is  _ pounding.  _ The closeness is electrifying, the idea of your fangs more so. 

“I said that’s not funny. Quit trying to make me mad. We both know what a lie those pretty words are, and you know that I don’t appreciate being lied to. I don’t want to hear that again, understand? I’ll make it hurt if you can’t remember not to displease me.” Your voice is frigid, an expression like confused annoyance settling over your features. 

It suddenly occurs to Yuuma that there’s a very good reason why you’re dismissing his feelings so easily. You don’t believe he could mean it. Yuuma knows vaguely that vampire relationships are a thousand levels of fucked-up; it makes a sick amount of sense that you wouldn’t believe that he could really love you. But… what’s he supposed to do now? What’s he supposed to do now that he’s admitted it all to himself?

Yuuma forces himself to keep his mouth shut. You’re already not happy. If he pushes this, he’s just asking to get hurt. 

Maybe there will be a better time. If he waits, you might believe him someday. It’s gonna hurt to have to keep quiet, and Yuuma  _ knows  _ already that he’s going to keep loving you no matter how much you hurt him. 

He’ll just have to swallow those stupid feelings and keep them down.

**9\. Tsukinami Carla**

The ribbon wouldn’t hold Carla for a second if he wanted to move. Rich, dark burgundy knotted around pale skin, holding his wrists loosely over his head, leaving Carla’s long, lean body stretched out on display. For now, you could ignore that you can see far too many bones. 

“Don’t move, remember. Show me how much control the First Blood king has,” you smile, Carla shivering at your words. 

“Of course. You think you’ll be able to get the best of me?”

In response, you trace warm fingers down the length of Carla’s cock, stroking slow and soft where it presses up against his belly. Carla’s breath hitches in his chest, fragile and beautiful. You slip the head between your fingers, rubbing slow circles against the tender skin and delighting in how his chest heaves. Poor thing. So  _ sensitive.  _

By the time you take a proper grip around his cock, Carla jerks, hands twitching. He catches himself just in time, clenching his fingers instead of moving enough to break the ribbon. His eyes are closed, white lashes casting hazy shadows on his sharp cheeks, visible tension hanging over his brow. Carla’s used to getting what he wants. Few people dare to defy the king, after all, and that only makes it more fun to deny him.

After giving his cock a few loose pumps, just enough to tease, you slip your hand down to cup his balls, tight and full-feeling in your hand. Carla hisses through his fangs, thighs twitching. 

You smooth over the soft skin, whispering praise. Your hand goes back to his cock after a moment, stroking in an even rhythm, torturously slow. 

Silence ticks by, the only sound the faint heave of Carla’s breath. His eyelids twitch, flutter, fingers curling. He’s painfully hard under your hand, all solid weight and silken skin, liquid beading at his tip and dribbling down to your fingers. You don’t let up your pace for a moment; fast enough to tease, but slow enough to leave his arousal nothing more than a frustrating simmer under his skin, boiling low in his gut. 

“Hurry up,” Carla growls a moment later, voice a low, tense rumble. 

“Why should I? You’re so pretty like this… what’s the rush? And anyway, I thought that the king would have more control than this. Breaking so quickly over just a hand on your dick… that seems beneath you.”

The flush that rises on Carla’s cheeks is beautiful. You rub your thumb over his slit just to see his hips buck, to see his head snap back. 

He’ll beg eventually. First Blood pride is strong, but you know just how to get under his skin. You both know that he wants to please you, keeping his hands obediently where you instructed, even as his dignity won’t let him make more than the faintest sounds. You trace your fingers up the sharp jut of Carla’s hipbone, stroking teasingly over the underside of his cock. 

You wonder just how long you can draw this out before he breaks. 

**10\. Sakamaki Laito**

Laito wakes up and realizes very quickly that something is wrong. 

He’s not in his bed, not sprawled out with some pretty girl in his arms. Instead, he’s leaning back against cold stone, arms twisted behind him at an angle that already aches. It only takes a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they do, he realizes that this is the dungeon. 

Head spinning, vision blurring, feeling like he might throw up, it starts to sink in that Laito is very, very drugged. He knows what his body is supposed to feel like. This is most definitely not it. 

And then, his eyes focus enough to see you sitting beside him, crouched down with a look of wonder in your eyes, and even though you should be nothing but prey to him, Laito suddenly feels a cold shiver run down his spine. The look on your face is  _ hungry. _

“Ah, Laito-kun! Good morning! Did you sleep well? You might feel kind of dizzy for a bit, but please bear with it. Until you get used to things, it’s just to keep you safe.” You’re smiling softly, expression all but glowing. Nothing has ever made less sense, and Laito doesn’t think it’s just because of the drugs that he’s painfully confused. 

“B-Bitch-chan…? What…?” Talking hurts, words slow and syrup-like. His brain is slowed to a crawl, stripped of his usual sharpness. 

“Don’t worry, Laito-kun. Nothing is going to hurt you. I just wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t struggle too much. I won’t do anything bad, promise! I’m just keeping you all to myself. We can love each other more than anything, okay? You’ll never ever need anyone again.” You lean forward enough to cup his cheek, smoothing soft, hot fingers over his skin in a mockery of a caress. Laito thinks that just maybe, he’s fucked up. 

The cuffs around his wrists are blocking his magic. Laito figures that out a second later when he tries to break free. A stab of panic hits him low and sharp, breaking through the fog. He can’t get out of this. 

And then, you get out a syringe. 

You kiss him softly, warm tongue laving gently at his lips. Laito thinks that he’s never wanted to be kissed less. The needle slides into his wrist slow and smooth, a prickle of pain blooming under his skin, bringing with it a rush of warmth that hits him like a wave. 

The dizziness crests and bursts, exploding into a haze of heat that drags his eyelids down. Whatever that is, it’s working  _ fast.  _ You kiss him again, this time rougher, sliding your tongue against his fangs. 

“I won’t let you go, Laito-kun. You need me. You need so much love, and I’ll be the one to give it to you. I know it’s scary right now, but you’ll be so happy soon. I’ll make you happier than anyone.” Your voice is low and rough, audibly aroused. Whether because of the kiss or his vulnerability, Laito doesn’t know. His vision blurs again, fading fast. 

**11\. Mukami Ruki**

Ruki’s hands are looped above his head, secured to the headboard with cuffs that even his vampiric strength won’t break. Every part of him is bare, flushed down to his chest, all but shuddering. His cock is red up to the tip, heavy and swollen in your hand, dripping clear fluid down the skin. He’s blindfolded, gag the only thing muffling shameful, desperate noises.

You’ve been teasing him for far beyond what human stamina could take, pushing him to the edge over and over again, but pulling back just in time to take it away. It’s been  _ hours _ . If he wasn’t quite so carefully bound, you think that his control would have broken by now.

He’d be begging if the gag was out, and you both know it, pride broken down to nothing under the constant pleasure and denial. 

You’d feel bad for him if this wasn’t quite so fun. 

Twisting your fingers around the ridge of him, you delight in the ragged, stifled moan that makes it out from behind the gag. Ruki’s head snaps to the side, hips twitching involuntarily. 

He’s not going to be able to look you in the eye after this. It’s a charming thought– the proud head of the family, broken down to pure shame under the hands of a human. His poor ego. Perhaps it’ll never recover. You can only imagine how he’s going to justify this to himself, how his pride will deal with how much he loves the torture. 

Ruki’s cock twitches in your hand. His thighs flex, and you let go of his dick just in time to stop it from spilling. You can hear his whine loud and clear even from behind the gag. 

“Not yet, silly. I told you; we’re going to keep going until I think you deserve it.” You smooth your hand over his thigh, comforting. 

One more edge, though, and your phone rings. At first, you consider ignoring it… right up until a truly wicked idea occurs too you. 

“Hello?” you answer cheerfully, scooting up the bed to unknot the blindfold and gently pull it away. Your friend greets you, asking if it’s a good time. No, no, of course you’re not busy. You can talk for as long as she wants, you say, looking Ruki dead in the eyes. 

The utter desperation in his gaze is  _ delicious.  _

Giving him a smile, you take his cock in hand again, stroking at an agonizingly slow pace. He has no chance of coming like this. The arousal is just going to build and build, and he’s helpless to stop it. 

You talk casually, carefully toying with Ruki the whole time. For a while, it’s just slow, even strokes. You move to tracing circles against his slit a few minutes later, delighting in his full-body jolt. You’re not giving him enough stimulation to be any more than utter torment. 

Ruki’s eyes scrunch tightly shut from the beginning, visibly struggling not to make himself look any more pathetic, humiliation so obvious that you almost feel sorry for him. He doesn’t want to look at you, you can tell, but after the twenty-minute mark, need finally wins out over pride. And when he does meet your eyes, oh, does he look  _ wrecked.  _ Teary-eyed, pupils blown black, all but shaking… it might be the prettiest he’s ever been.

With such a precious expression, how could you bear to stop?

**12\. Sakamaki Reiji**

Your hand closes around the demon’s wrist, catching it mere inches away from Reiji’s throat. For a second, all he can do is stand frozen, staring helplessly at the two of you. 

Snake demon, you said last week, when she first became a problem. One of the other races of the demon world, and a long-time rival of your family. She’d take him away out of spite alone, drain him dry just to have the satisfaction of stealing your prey. Or worse– if the Vibora stole him, he could be sold off to someone else as little more than a toy.

“I thought I told you to leave my prey alone,” you say, voice deadpan in a way that Reiji recognizes as utter fury. 

Reiji’s heart catches in his throat. This is  _ dangerous.  _ As much as he resents the idea of being treated like a scrap of meat to fight over, he’s well aware that he’s far out of his depth. The snake eyes him like she wants to eat him alive, tongue running over her fangs as she returns your glare. 

“And I thought I said that I wasn’t leaving without the human,  _ vampire. _ ” She yanks her hand out of your grip, baring her fangs. 

“Reiji, head home. I’ll be done with this shortly.” You look back at him and give one of your rare, sweet smiles. “I’ll protect you, so go home and wait for me. I won’t be long.”

Feeling disgustingly helpless, Reiji obeys. 

The next hour is spent nervously pacing the mansion, unable to settle down long enough to focus on any single thing. There’s going to be bloodshed. He’s not stupid. It was obvious from the way that the demon looked at you that she wanted to tear your throat out. He can’t imagine that you don’t feel the same. He  _ should  _ be worried for his own safety, for what would happen to him if you don’t fend the creature off…

But instead, all he can think about is if you’ll come home. A sort of anxiety that he hasn’t felt since he was a child simmering in his chest, Reiji fights to keep calm. He has to remain rational, he can’t panic. 

Eventually, he finds himself on your bed. When he started to care so much about what happens to you, Reiji doesn’t know, but the scent of you on your blankets is comforting in a way that he doesn’t want to think about. He drifts off like that, trying to let time pass quickly.

“Aw, did you miss me?”

Your voice jolts Reiji awake, leaving him scrambling upright. You’re alive, bloody all over, covered in wounds that make him hurt just looking at them, but  _ alive.  _

“I expected that you’d return in one piece,” he says, trying to sound less pathetic than he feels. “I was simply waiting for you.”

You laugh. 

“Quit staring at me like that. I’ll heal. It looks bad, but I’m a vampire– it won’t last for long. You won’t be getting away from me yet.” Sitting on the bed next to him, you sling a bloody arm over Reiji’s shoulder, dragging him down to lay beside you. “Mm, I think I’ll rest for a bit before getting cleaned up. Since you waited for me so patiently, I’ll reward you for now.”

Your bloody clothes against his skin are downright disgusting, but Reiji can’t find it in him to care. The feel of you, solid and cold and real, has him sagging against you helplessly, relieved down to his core. 

“I told you I’d protect you,” you whisper, and Reiji can’t understand when he started to care so deeply for the monster that you are. 

**13\. Mukami Kou**

Watching his brothers fall apart is sickening. They’ve only been in your awful mansion for a month, and already, it’s starting to break them. 

Kou thinks back to the orphanage, to the years of laying hungry, pained, and unwanted in a too-small bed, Ruki’s guidance the only thing keeping any of them from giving up. He thinks, then, that this time with you is  _ worse.  _ He thinks that there isn’t anything worse than this.

Ruki is a solid ball of stress. There are dark circles under his eyes, scars dotting his neck, and Kou  _ sees  _ the way he slides his fingers over the fresh lines. His hands shake, now. He hasn’t picked up a book in days. He’s the one to take care of all of them, to make sure that they’re all safe at the end of the day, and the part of Kou that’s painfully grateful also sees the weight of the responsibility that’s hanging on his brother’s shoulders. 

Yuuma, the person that Kou had spent years thinking was the strongest in the world, cowers when you move towards him. He gardens endlessly, only coming inside with blood streaking down his neck from you. For once, he can’t fight off what’s trying to hurt them. 

Azusa, spacey as ever, soaks up your attention like a bloody sponge. He wanders the new mansion covered in fresh wounds every day, spending hours lost in thought. Kou catches him tracing his scars, running thin fingers over the fresh scabs more often than not. He’d be happy on his own, perhaps, but the pain that the rest of them go through is enough to make him have second thoughts. Kou thinks that he might be  _ trying  _ to get your attention at this point, if only to take it away from the rest of them. 

But Azusa is fragile. His head is already damaged, too damaged. Kou doesn’t know what would happen if you knock loose anything else.

Yuuma is supposed to be the strong one. Ruki isn’t supposed to look so stretched-thin. Every part of this is wrong. A little voice in Kou’s head reminds him that they’re not tainted like he is. They’re not used to the same kind of abuse. They deserve so much better than this.

And fuck,  _ fine.  _ Kou can do this. He’s got the prettiest face of all of them, the sweetest voice, and the charm to win anyone over. There’s a damn good reason why everyone at the orphanage wanted him. 

Kou leans into your space all on his own. He takes your hand, kitten licks at the pad of your thumb, then wraps your hand around his throat. Even as he feels like his blood could freeze, he smiles needy-flushed and moans when you tear his shirt from his chest. You trace the old scars, fingers slotting into the gaps of his skinny ribs. Kou tries to pretend like the feeling doesn’t make his skin crawl. 

Your fangs break the skin of his collarbone, digging in hard enough to make him  _ whine.  _ It hurts, somehow worse than anything he’s been through. Kou wraps his arms around your neck and moans, leaning into the pain. Your smile against his skin tells him all he needs to know. 

You’ll love him more than any of them. You’ll choose him as your prey over the rest of them. A painful sacrifice, but one that must be made. 

**14\. Tsukinami Carla**

Above all else, Carla hates feeling helpless. He’s meant to be the First Blood king– powerful, capable, in control of every part of himself no matter what the situation. Instead, his body slowly weakens, drawing him farther and farther away from what he’s supposed to be. 

Constant exhaustion weighs down his limbs, driving him to days spent in bed. Nausea leaves him struggling to keep on weight, always slim, but turning slowly to little more than bone. Aches come and go, sending him careening between agony and shuddering relief. The bruises that blossom on his skin, the Endziet sickeningly visible, are a permanent reminder of just how far he’s fallen– how far he has to go. 

Having Shin see him in such a pathetic state hurt more than the disease ever could. His perfect brother, the idol he’d followed for years, reduced to nothing but a weakening body and bruised ego. 

The only comfort so far is that you’ve been the one to take over the burden of his care. It’s no less humiliating to have a human see him so pathetic, but at least–,  _ at least  _ Shin doesn’t have to see the one person he has left sink lower every day.

Carla would expect you to look down on him. For how poorly he treated you in the beginning, you should delight in his current pain. 

Instead, he finds himself with you in his room on one of his worst days, when just standing up feels like a monumental task. It’s the middle of winter, and between his thin, cold-blooded body and the poor insulation of the ancient mansion, Carla is shaking like a leaf in strong wind, joints going achingly stiff from the chill alone. 

You’d come to check on him, assuming correctly that the frigid night would be taking its toll. The shame should be eating him alive, but with you happily fetching him more blankets, it’s hard to resent the care.

Even with three more blankets piled on, though, he can’t stop  _ shaking _ . 

“Is that better?” you ask, a happy-sad smile hanging on your lips. “I can go get a couple more if it would help any.”

Carla doesn’t answer. On his better days, he can’t pretend like he hasn’t become so pathetic. He can pretend like you don’t look at him like some kind of invalid. On days like this, there’s not much left of him to try to keep up the act. Facing you  _ hurts.  _

You take his hand in yours, fingers achingly warm. Your face twists into something worried, into something determined. 

A second later, and you’re lifting back the blankets, Carla wincing at the cold. But then, you’re laying down next to him, scooting in close enough that within seconds, the human heat is rushing in under his skin. You sling an arm around Carla’s waist, tugging him close to you before he can find the dignity to try to resist. Your hand on his back burns even through his shirt.

“Alright, this should help. Try to go to sleep, okay? I’ll stay here as long as you need me.” Even your breath is hot, whispering over his hair. This is unfair on every level, that he’d have to depend on you.

The gratitude somehow burns deeper than the shame.

**15\. Sakamaki Subaru**

You lean in close, and Subaru feels like his heart might burst from his chest. Your cold hand slides up, cupping his cheek. It takes every bit of self-control Subaru has not to smack it away. Terror thuds against his lungs like a vice. Subaru forces his expression to one of anger.

“Come on, bunny, don’t look at me like that.” You’re smiling, like the deepest fury he can muster means absolutely  _ nothing _ . 

“Come on.”

With no explanation beyond those words, you take his wrist. Subaru tries to jerk it away, but your grip is firm. You start walking, all but dragging him after you. There’s nothing Subaru can do but follow along. 

“Where the fuck are we going?” he hisses, trying to make it sound like a demand, but coming out more like a plea. You drag him through the mansion like it means nothing, Subaru stumbling to keep up, hauling him across the mansion and up a flight of stairs without so much as a word to explain where you’re taking him. There’s a smile on your lips, carefree, and Subaru knows already that this isn’t going to be good. 

And then, you reach a tall, spiraling flight of stairs, stretching up into the dim candlelight to places unknown. 

He’s never been to this part of the mansion, Subaru thinks. You give the middle of his back a shove, pushing him towards the stairs. The message is clear; he’s going to walk on his own from here. 

“See, bunny, your brothers aren’t being very good.” Your voice sounds from behind him, frustratingly out of sight. “They’re causing me so much trouble, you know? So I thought about what to do. And what I thought of was pretty simple. Everyone loves the baby brother.”

Subaru’s breath catches in his chest, heart thudding frantically. You give his shoulders a little nudge. He keeps walking.  _ Obedient _ .

“You’re going to be spending a little time away from everyone. How long? Well, that depends on your brothers. If we see some results, you’ll be out of here in no time. If not… you might be here for a while.” You sound so casual, like hauling him off into some strange tower just to get at his brothers is normal, is fair. Subaru’s fists clench at his sides. 

And then, you reach the top. At your prompting, Subaru slides open the ancient, heavy door, trying not to wince at the ominous creak. Inside is a simple room, obviously old and unused. There’s nothing special about it, and somehow, that’s the most terrifying part. 

You shut the door behind you. A lock clicks shut from the outside. Subaru grits his teeth until his jaw aches, fighting not to show how badly he wants to push past you and run. 

You step towards him, and Subaru backs up. Four more paces of this and his back is to the wall. He’s starting to shake, involuntary tremors settling into his shoulders, into his limbs. How long is he going to be up here? Could you keep him here forever? The room is already starting to feel much too small. 

“Now, let’s give your brothers something to worry about.”

**16\. Mukami Ruki**

“We haven’t been out together in a while,” you said, brushing tender fingers over the bite wounds dotting Ruki’s neck. “Aren’t you bored, being cooped up in the mansion all day?”

Ruki barely dared to answer. Talking to you was a minefield of potential pain. A fickle vampire, flickering between deceptive kindness and brutal punishment. All he had to do was say one wrong thing and he’d be aching for days, dizzy with bloodloss and dreading waking up. 

So when you looped a scarf around his neck, ushering him out into the winter air, Ruki hadn’t thought for a second to resist you. A part of him still wanted to see your gentle side, the rare moments when something almost human shone through the monster he’d come to know. Stockholm Syndrome, most likely. Thinking about it for too long just made him sick. Better not to consider just how deeply you were getting under his skin.

Outside, the moon casts the streets in dim light. The air, frosty and crisp, fills Ruki’s lungs for the first time in over a week. 

You hadn’t been letting him outside much, lately. 

You take his hand not long after, fingers almost as cold as the air. Fingers, smaller than his, but so, so strong. All Ruki can think of is how they feel around his neck. 

Walking in silence save for some tune humming under your breath, somehow, his anxiety starts to ease. You seem to be in a good mood tonight. Maybe nothing horrible will happen this time. It’s a fragile hope, but that’s how everything is anymore. That’s just how he lives.

The two of you stop at a park before long, a playground casting shadows on the grassy lot. You tug Ruki over to a bench, gesture for him to sit down, and settle half into his lap on the spot beside him. 

“This is unusual,” he breaths when you lean in to kiss him, frigid against his lips, tongue flicking against his mouth. 

“Mm, call it a rare treat. Perhaps I’m feeling soft tonight.” Your hand goes to his hair, mouth peppering kisses over his cheek, his jaw, down to the line of the tendon in his throat. “You’re prettier when you’re relaxed.”

The prickle of fangs sinking into his skin is familiar, but this time, you’re almost  _ gentle.  _ Blood dribbles down to his collarbone, heat pouring down his skin. You lap at his insides, bracing a smile against his skin. How peaceful. How serene. The main is minimal, and Ruki can only wonder how and when the moment will come crashing down. 

You pull away, and a new hand closes on his shoulder. 

There’s a person behind him, visibly inhuman. Ruki’s eyes flicker from them to you, heart sinking at the way your smile has twisted into something amused, the way your eyes light up. 

“I’m done now. You can take him,” you say, and panic stabs through Ruki’s chest like a blade. 

“What? Take…?” Once, a long time ago, he’d been considered intelligent. Now his thoughts are slowed to a crawl, stress leaving him a shadow of his former self. “Are you getting rid of me?”

“Yep! I think I’ve already broken this toy… so it’s time for a new one. Don’t worry– you’ll be taken care of. Well, no worse than things were with me.” You clasp his hand one more time, stroking softly over the bones. “Well then, it’s time for me to say goodbye.”

You walk out of the park, not bothering to teleport so Ruki doesn’t have to see you go. You don’t look over your shoulder once. 

**17\. Karlheinz**

Karheinz’s wrists fit in your grasp perfectly, slender bones creaking when you squeeze down hard. He winces, hisses through his teeth, not daring to squirm or struggle when it’s you holding him down. 

You keep him pinned down, face pressed into the bed as you hold his hands above his head. It’s a humiliating position to begin with. 

Twice as bad when he’s completely bare. 

“Now,” you start, “let’s hear what you did to deserve this. And speak up. You already know I’m angry, so don’t make things worse for yourself.”

“O-Of course...” he mutters into the sheets, head tilted just enough that you can hear him speak. “I... I-I tried to speak with them again... the w-women who came before you. I went against your orders.”

“That’s right. And that’s why I’m angry with you. You  _ know _ I told you that you weren’t to have contact with those stupid women again. I don’t like it when you do things that separate us.” You let go of his hands, at last, leaving Karlheinz to breathe a short sigh of relief. It must be a relief not to have you squeezing down like you want to shatter every bone in his wrists.

“Ass in the air. You want to talk to worthless bitches, you’re going to get treated like one. Don’t worry; I’m sure you’ve done worse to them.”

You grin, but it doesn’t have any amusement behind in. Karlheinz flinches but moves to obey anyway, dark hair falling in his face as he raises himself up on his knees, all but presenting to you. 

Running a hand up his ass, you grab the dildo you’d been planning on making him suffer with. That kind of disobedience... well, it simply can’t stand. You need to make sure Karlheinz remembers not to disobey you again. You need to make sure that he suffers enough to do better. 

Without any unnecessary preparation, you line the dildo up with his hole. Karlheinz jerks forward, flinching hard once again. 

“W-Wait! You’re going to– But, b-but what about preparation–?” 

“You don’t get any. You were bad, so you don’t get any.”

Karlheinz shudders, shoulders dropping even farther as a miserable little moan leaves him. You’ve done things like this before, but you’ve never been quite so cruel as to skip prepping him entirely. This is going to hurt. This is going to be absolute agony, and he knows it. Hopefully, you think, making him hurt enough will mean he won’t disobey again. 

You begin to press the toy inside. It’s a dry, friction-filled slide, make even slower by his hole still being tight and unready. Karlheinz bites down on his arm to try not to make any noise, already shaking. 

Because you get bored after a few moments of that, you use a bit of your strength to force the dildo inside all at once.

Karlheinz actually  _ shrieks  _ at that, thighs snapping together. A thin dribble of blood trickles out of his hole around the base of the toy. You smirk. He must be in so much pain. 

“This is how your wives felt when you forced yourself on them, you know that? This is why you can’t ever talk to them again. You hurt them, and you hurt me, and now you’re going to suffer the consequences.”

**18\. Sakamaki Subaru**

“Stupid! You think you can try to stand up to me? You’re the human here; a pathetic, helpless human that can’t do shit to protect themself.”

Subaru slams a fist into the wall beside your head. The plaster shatters, crumbles, a small trickle of dust falling down to your shoulder. His face is set in an expression of irritated fury like he can’t believe that some _ thing _ like you would ever think to try to stand up to him. 

He probably thinks he’s intimidating. You think otherwise. You’ve seen his weak side far too many times to take these little tantrums seriously. 

Instead of flinching or cowering, you stand your ground, staring him straight in the eye with an expression of ‘really?’ This kind of thing is getting really, really old. And the property damage isn’t great either. 

“Quit making that face!” Subaru shouts, gritting his teeth. “You should be scared of me, not looking like you think you can defend yourself. I’ll show you just how afraid you should be...” With those words, Subaru leans in to bite you, his tiny fangs bared. You think about shoving him away. You think about ducking under his arm yourself and walking away from this mess.

Instead, you know exactly what to say. 

“Subaru, knock it off. You’re not scaring me and we both know it. You’re being a child. Now,  _ stop. _ ” You use a voice that you’ve only had to pull a couple times before. It’s sharp, serious, and seems to go right to the parts of Subaru that long for someone to actually take control. 

Just as you expect, Subaru flinches, shoulders hunching up. You’ve got the better of him like this plenty of times before, and yet, he still acts surprised. Every. Single. Time. It’s kind of cute, but kind of sad. 

“Come on. We’re not doing this today. Stand up and close your mouth.” You step forward, crowding yourself into Subaru’s space. 

Obediently, Subaru takes a step back. There’s a look in his red eyes that you can’t quite place. You doubt many people have legitimately told him what to do before. You doubt anyone has ever really cared. 

But you’ve seen different. You’ve seen Subaru when he’s not trying to be strong. Somehow, he still thinks he can pretend, but you know otherwise. He’d rather be told what to do than left to his own devices, and you’ve figured that part out plenty well. It’s just a matter of standing up to him. 

“There. That’s better.” You cup his cheek with one hand, stroking over his skin with your thumb. “You listened to me. Do you want a reward?”

Subaru flushes, jerking back. He can’t even get words out at this point, flushing like he has no idea what to do now. After a long moment of staring at you like he can’t believe what’s happening, he slowly, slowly nods. 

“Good boy.” Subaru flinches at the praise, going redder. He’s not used to that kind of thing. You can’t imagine anyone has told him he’s very good.

Suddenly, using as much strength as you can muster, you shove Subaru back against the wall behind him, a mirror of what he’d done to you before. You know he’s strong enough not to budge. You know what it means when he moves with you. He wants this. Even if he won’t–  _ can’t  _ admit it, he wants this. You lean in, kissing a soft spot on his neck. 

“How about I bite  _ you _ this time?”

**19\. Sakamaki Subaru**

You’ve got Subaru’s pants down around his thighs, the waistband of his boxers right below his balls, pushing the whole package out on display. The poor boy is already about as red as it gets, one hand over his face in a pathetic attempt to hide just how much he’s blushing. 

Running your tongue over your fangs, you grin where he can’t see it. Poor thing is  _ so  _ embarrassed. This’ll be the most fun you’ve had in a while. 

“D-Do you have t-to do this...?” Subaru chokes out, thighs twitching like he wants to cover himself. For all he’s embarrassed about, his dick is  _ pretty _ ; pale as the rest of him with high, tight balls and a deliciously pink head. As far as giving blowjobs goes, you expect that this will be one of your more pleasant experiences. Especially considering the reactions you’ll get. 

“Of course, cutie. You’re gonna make the best noises. Why would I ever miss my chance to hear those?” You laugh, running a hand over his belly, just above the base of him. He’s already starting to fill out. 

Subaru makes a humiliated noise, burying his face in both hands this time. His hair is falling in his face, soft and fluffy and white. 

To give him just the slightest bit of warning, you give the head of his cock a soft little kitten-lick. Instantly, Subaru tries to curl in on himself, moaning miserably while his thighs shudder. Awww. Baby’s sensitive. Now that you know how delicate he is, you don’t have to be so gentle. 

So, because you definitely feel like being mean now, you relax your jaw and take Subaru down to the base in one smooth slide. You don’t have much of a gag reflex, to begin with, and at a relatively average size, Subaru’s dick isn’t much trouble either. At the sudden heat and pressure, Subaru moans for real, head tipping back when he can’t contain the sound. He bites down on one finger a second later, the other going to clench in the sheets beside him. 

Resisting the urge to grin, you slide back, sliding your tongue down the underside of his dick as you go. Keeping pressure right on what you know to be the most sensitive spot, you hum around the head. 

Subaru  _ howls  _ at that, legs fighting to curl up around your shoulders. His pants keep him all but restrained, though, and he doesn’t get much farther than a few desperate twitches. Because you’re a mean vampire today, you move to cup his balls, tickling blunt nails over the tender skin.

Another minute or two of your ministrations on his cock, and Subaru is starting to whimper, he’s given up on biting his finger– clamping down on his lip instead while both hands try to tear holes in your sheets. 

“How we doing, baby?” you ask when you pull back for a moment, grinning wickedly with saliva dripping off your lips. “You know, you’re so loud I’d bet the whole house can hear you!”

Subaru doesn’t respond; just makes another attempt to cover his face. 

**20\. Karlheinz**

You’ve heard about the vampire king. Sure, it’s just been as a human residing in a mansion full of boys more brats than monsters, but you’ve heard things. And with hearing things comes pre-conceived notions. 

You’re picturing, basically, Dracula. Black hair, a goatee, red eyes, a long, flowing cape, and a wine glass full of blood. The image is almost silly to you. Considering how varied his sons’ appearances are (and the fact that you’ve never seen any of their mothers), it’s kind of hard to guess what the man might look like. Old, cheesy vampire movies really are kind of your best bet for assumptions at the moment, wrong as they might be. 

Today is when you’re supposed to meet Karlheinz for the first time. You’re nervous in a lot of ways, but curious in a lot of others. You’ve spent a lot of time wondering just what kind of person the hated father could be, and now, you’re going to find out. 

There are footsteps in the hallway, pattern steady and casual. He’s not bothering with teleportation. The door to the little sitting-room opens and in strides the man known as the vampire king. 

Your first thought is that he’s not at all what you were expecting. 

Karlheinz is a tall, slim man. His figure is rather slight– certainly not large or broad-shouldered. His hair is a silky, pink-toned white, falling well past his hips in what look like ridiculously soft waves. His eyes are an absolutely brilliant gold, shining out from a youthful, fine-featured face. He doesn’t look much over thirty, which, even physically speaking, you imagine  _ can’t  _ be true. He’s dressed in a fine suit; surprisingly normal for what you’d imagine a vampire king to adorn himself in before a guest. 

You rush to stand up. It can’t be acceptable to stay seated while the king stands before you, no matter how shocked you still are. 

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Karlheinz says when words fail you at speaking first. “I don’t often speak to the young ladies staying with my sons... so I suppose you could consider yourself special. Please, sit.”

Karlheinz seats himself on the chair across from yours with astounding grace. Every movement he makes is downright regal. With exceptional posture, he crosses his legs and folds his hands in his lap, looking at you like you’re a particularly interesting specimen. It’s chilling. 

“N-Nice to meet you as well!” you squeak out somewhat intelligently. Then, less intelligently; “You’re very different than I was expecting.”

Looking at you with amusement, Karlheinz smiles. “Oh? How so? I’d love to hear what you’d assumed about me, my dear, so please, don’t hesitate to speak.”

Even though you get the feeling that Karlheinz is nowhere near as polite and charming as he sounds, you swallow and open your mouth. “I thought you’d look, you know, like the vampires in movies. Like Dracula. Dark hair, red eyes, and so on. You’re much more... pretty, I suppose?” You feel ridiculous. You’re surely making a fool of yourself. 

Instead of getting angry with you, Karlheinz gives an even more serene smile. He lifts a hand and runs it through his hair, black spreading from his touch until every strand is inky and dark. Then, he waves the same hand in front of his eyes, opening garnet red instead of gold a second later. 

“Like this?”

You’re staring and you know it. “Y-Yeah... H-How did you...?”

“I’m the vampire king, dear. Basic shapeshifting is a small feat for my powers. Neither this appearance nor the one you saw before are true to my real self. No one has seen  _ that  _ face in far longer than you’ve been alive.”


End file.
